Mysteries
by starcrossedannabeth
Summary: Things are dark at the academy. Drugs, death and missing people - can they uncover the mystery? lesbian!percabeth au, life is strange inspired


**that's right, it's an angsty life is strange inspired lesbian percabeth oneshot that nobody asked for!** **word count: 3657**  
 **pairings: female!percy and annabeth, implied thalia and annabeth**  
 **warnings: swearing, character death, drugs**

Rays of sunlight woven like silk wound themselves around the group of young adults. Time itself seemed to stop, allowing them to bask in the rapidly-fading light that currently enveloped them.

"Life is just fucking us all in the behind, huh." Piper's voice was low and smooth, her warm brown skin shining in the light.

"Eloquently put. But yeah. It is." Annabeth's nimble fingers reached up and pulled her hair from its bonds, letting it tumble down her back.

Nobody cried. The hour ticked on, priceless minutes of gold slowly slipping through their fingers. Then the golden hour was over, and the sun started disappearing beneath the sea, engulfing the academy in night.

Annabeth was the first to stand, turning away from the burnished light and clenching her fists tightly at her side. Jason watched her, the scar on his lip bright white against the rosy pink. His eyes were misted with the ghost of tears; ones he had cried and ones he had yet to cry. In complete contrast, Annabeth's anger was dry like a desert – hard lines and stiffened resolves and face devoid of any expression. Her permanently scowling brow seemed almost frozen in place, with the only movement being the flutter of her eyelids as she blinked outwardly at the world. Jason stood up beside her.

"What if...?" He started; thumb absent-mindedly resting on his bottom lip.

"Shut the fuck up, Jason."

Annabeth's tone was clipped, sharp and sure. Tentatively, he reached up to place a hand on her exposed shoulder. She pushed it off instantly, but he didn't miss the way she squeezed his hand first and the way her gaze locked with his before looking down at her feet.

"Percy, you coming?" Annabeth said finally, her voice much more grave. She nodded, removing the blue snapback from her head and shaking out her long black hair with one lazy hand as she stood. Turning on her heel, Annabeth began to walk away, heading towards the dormitories in the dwindling light.

"I...we'll see you guys tomorrow." Percy said weakly, tearing her eyes between the desperate faces of her friends and Annabeth's retreating back. She stood for a moment, as if she were going to say something else – then changed her mind and lumbered into an awkward half-run to catch up with Annabeth.

"Jason's wrong." Annabeth said suddenly, fiery passion in her words. "I know it."

The pair lapsed into silence. Percy wanted to agree with Annabeth, reassure her that Jason was wrong, but in all honesty everything was uncertain. For all they knew, Jason could be wrong. Or Annabeth could be wrong. Percy could tell it was driving her insane.

With the sun finally gone and night settling upon them like a fresh layer of snow in winter, the only lights above them were the incandescent white glow of the streetlamps around campus that caused the air to become permeated with moths. Percy watched as Annabeth flicked one away from her with more strength than needed. She grasped the handle to the dormitories and opened it slowly in an effort to stop the tiresome moths from fluttering around, and stepped onto the worn blue carpet. Percy followed.

The walk across the hallway was silent. Annabeth moved quickly, stopping outside her door and fumbling for her spare key. Percy approached quietly, reading the whiteboard that some poor caretaker had to fix onto the wall outside every door in every dormitory. Someone had left some graffiti on Annabeth's board, a perverted comment about her breasts and a provocative image scrawled beneath it, depicting Annabeth with very little clothing on and the pervert alongside her. Percy recognised the art style in a flash; she'd seen it in the academy newspaper on numerous occasions. With a surprising amount of disgust welling up inside her, Percy erased the message and made a mental note to tell Sherman to watch what he did with his hands before he lost them altogether.

Annabeth didn't notice. She was gripping the key in her hand so tight that her knuckles had turned white, but she made no attempt to open the door.

"Can..." She began, letting out a breath and turning to face Percy. "Can I stay at yours tonight? I, um, don't feel like being alone."

As awful as it was, Percy loved it when she was like this. Alone, she was much more personal, much less guarded and uptight. At least, she was like that around her.

"Sure," She responded, offering a smile. "I understand."

Luckily for the pair, the parking lot was located at the back of Annabeth's dormitory, so the chances of them being caught out after curfew were minimal. Even so, they tiptoed down the steps of the rustic building and across the campus until they reached the relatively sheltered parking lot. It was empty of any vehicle except an official academy minibus, an old baby-blue pickup truck and a suspiciously new, sleek black car.

Percy pulled the ring of keys from her back pocket and clicked the button. The lights on the pickup truck flashed momentarily, signalling that it was unlocked, and she ran forwards to get in, Annabeth following quickly behind her.

Her truck really was a mess. Pages of magazines were strewn across the seats, old takeaway cups and smoked cigarettes littered the floor. Curious, Annabeth lifted one of the magazine pages as she sat down and looked at the picture. The nameless model looked shamefully American, stretching elaborately across and old western car, clad in a stars-and-stripes bikini and looking strangely shiny and oily.

"Nice." Annabeth snorted, putting it back down. A laugh broke loose from Percy's throat.

Just as she was about to turn the key in the ignition, Annabeth put her hand on top of Percy's.

"Wait," She hissed, urgency creeping into her voice. "Look."

She ducked down, motioning for Percy to do the same. They kneeled on the dirty floor of the truck, chairs pushed way back, so that they could see outwards but no one could see them. Before Percy could question what they were doing, Annabeth pressed a finger to her lips and pointed forwards.

The black car was pulling out of its space. Percy couldn't see the driver, but she could see that they were wearing a dark purple jacket and clearly had a lot of money, to own such a car. The moment it drove out of the parking lot, Annabeth slid back into her seat with a face like thunder.

"Who was that?" Percy wondered aloud, fastening her seatbelt.

"Didn't you see?" Annabeth responded, jaw tight.

"Luke Castellan." She spat, eyes flashing. "Turn the engine on," She ordered, her voice so commanding and full of anger that she obeyed immediately. "We're following that bastard."

Percy's heart raced. She'd never spoken a word to Luke Castellan before, but she'd heard everything. He was rich, smart, and manipulative. He threw huge parties with endless supplies of alcohol and drugs, and he untouchable. The police and the school were in his back pocket. He was scary, and he was powerful. He could ruin them.

"Annabeth..." She protested weakly.

She knew Annabeth and Luke had been involved once. She'd been friends with him a while back – part of his incessant and scarily powerful group. No one asked her what had happened to be suddenly exiled, or whether she'd exiled herself, but she knew that Luke had been even more of a danger to Annabeth since then. She wasn't sure why, but the idea of driving Annabeth into danger made her feel nauseous.

"Percy. Turn on the ignition. We are following Luke Castellan."

Percy turned on the ignition and began to drive.

They kept their distance. Slow, but keeping the black car in sight. Percy couldn't help the rising fear that bubbled away inside her.

"Annabeth."

She was staring intently at the car; eyes squinted, looking even angrier than usual. She blinked at the sound of her name but didn't tear her eyes from the moving vehicle.

"What." It didn't sound like a question.

"Annabeth, Luke Castellan is dangerous. We shouldn't be doing this."

A dry, mirthless laugh came out of Annabeth's mouth, sounding like a harsh mix of a choke and a sob. "He's dangerous? When I get my hands on him, I'll be the dangerous one."

"I'm serious, Annabeth. I'm scared. I don't like this."

"You don't like this?" An air of terrifying calm echoed in Annabeth's words. " _You_ don't like this? I know he's dangerous, Percy. I _know_ what he's capable of, I've seen it. I know what he could do to me if I fuck up. I know. But god- _fucking_ -dammit, we are following him."

End of discussion. Annabeth breathed heavily, seething, and they kept following Luke Castellan's car.

A few minutes later, Annabeth sprung back to life.

"Pull over!" She hissed, yanking Percy's sports jersey. "Into that gas station!"

She did as she was told, steering into the moth-infested gas station. Annabeth shifted forwards in her seat, looking purposeful and absolutely livid.

"Stay here," She commanded. "I'm gonna hop out and fill this thing with gas. When I go in the store, I'm gonna ask to get some fuel bottled, too. Keep an eye out for Luke – he's just driven into that church - but I'll be watching anyway."

Mind blown, Percy paused. "Wait, why do you need fuel?"

The shadows on Annabeth's face were sharp in contrast to the bright gas station lights, giving her face a murderous, grim appearance.

"I've got my lighter. You can never be too careful when you're dealing with Luke Castellan."

She closed the door of the truck and walked out, heading into the seedy shop to buy gas. The reality of the situation sunk in, and a shiver ran all the way down Percy's spine.

Why was she doing this? She would never risk her life like this with any of her other friends. The answer came into her head, but she didn't like it one bit.

 _Because you love her_ , it taunted. But she couldn't. She'd had girlfriends and girl crushes before, but Annabeth was different. On a whole new level. She couldn't love Annabeth.

But evidently, she did, which was the reason why she was in this situation in the first place. Fuck.

Annabeth returned shortly, a large red bottle marked 'FLAMMABLE' in hand. She threw it carelessly into the back seat and then went to fill up the gas tank from the pump, pulling out her phone as she did so. Percy's let out a little noise, and as she checked it she saw Annabeth was texting her.

 **Annabeth: Seen anything?**

 **Percy: No he must still be in that abandoned old church. I don't like this.**

 **Annabeth: I know. Keep an eye out, I'll be right in.**

True to her word, Annabeth climbed back in and leant against the worn brown leather of the seat, sighing. "No movement?"

"Nothing. Annabeth, this is dumb. We shouldn't be here." She babbled, waves of fear washing over her stronger than those crashing on the beach far west of them.

Once again, Annabeth's eyes flashed. "Dumb?! We're taking Luke Castellan down, Jackson. We're gonna find out what we need to know and then all the other dirty deeds he's done, then we're busting his ass."

Percy sighed, running a hand through her hair in defeat. "Okay. What are we doing now?"

A curl dangled in front of Annabeth's face, and Percy itched to tuck it behind her ear. "We're gonna wait him out."

"Great. Is that gas in the back?"

Annabeth nodded. "I think it's landed on your skateboard. Hold on, I'll move it."

She leant over the back, her body arcing gracefully. Her t-shirt lifted up slightly, revealing the smooth, tan plain of her waist. Percy swallowed.

Looking away at just the right moment, she turned back towards the front of the truck and let out a gasp.

"Annabeth!" She whispered, too terrified to be any louder. "Look!"

She whipped round immediately, curling her body back into the seat and widening her eyes like an owl. There, in plain view, the sleek black car shot outwards from the church driveway and skidded away into the night.

"Let's go." Annabeth said, sounding less sure and graver than she had since they'd begun the whole goose chase. Fear and anxiety wrestled in the pit of her stomach, but nevertheless they had to carry on. Percy did her best to subdue it, turned on the ignition, and drove in the opposite direction of Luke Castellan, into the abandoned church.

The truck had barely ground to a stop when Annabeth swung out of it, Percy following quickly behind. She strode confidently up the dust path leading to the entrance of the church, but stopped dead outside the doors.

"Percy, what if you're right? Maybe we should go." Annabeth said suddenly, her voice small.

"No point in leaving now," Percy said, mustering as much confidence as she could.

"Yeah." She pushed open the door and stepped inside.

As expected, the church hall was large and elaborately decorated, but run-down and crumbling with age. Crosses and unlit candles lay forgotten under layers of dust, prayer mats and pews covered in webs and dirt stood alone in their places. Annabeth pulled out her phone, using it as a light as she stared around the room.

"Search the place," Annabeth murmured, not wanting to cause an echo. "I'm going to as well. See if he left anything behind."

Percy nodded. She began to patrol the perimeter of the room, running her fingers along the sand in which the memorial candles stood and gazing upwards at the stained glass images that must have once been beautiful, but had faded and moulded to grim depictions of a forgotten religion. Glancing over at Annabeth, who was stood at the altar, she saw that she was holding something in her hand, what looked like a laminated prayer sheet. As she watched and absent-mindedly scrabbled through the sand, she found something.

She pulled her discovery out, looking away from Annabeth and instead at what lay in her hands. The moment she realised what it was, she almost screamed out loud – but luckily managed to stay quiet. Grasping her find tightly, she ran towards Annabeth.

"Annabeth! I've found something." She panted.

"Me too." Annabeth replied, her expression dark. "Look."

She held out the prayer sheet for Percy to take.

"A prayer sheet?"

"Read it." Annabeth said. "It's making me feel sick."

"Marijuana, heroin, opium, cocaine, amphetamine, methamphetamine, MDMA, flunitrazepam, ketamine, LSD, mescaline, dextromethorphan, psilocybin – Jesus, this list goes on forever."

Annabeth's voice was high pitched and breathy, like she was near tears. "I checked. Every prayer sheet has different ones on it. There must be thousands of drugs."

Percy trembled. "We should go."

"Wait."

Annabeth walked away from him, towards a huge decorative coffin-shaped ornament that stood hidden at the back of the room. Forcing down the nausea, Percy followed.

She lifted the lid, her arms shaking with the weight of it. "Drugs."

Percy almost fainted. The sight that met her eyes was disastrous – needles thrown haphazardly in, bags of powders and pills with hastily-scribbled labels on them.

Fuming, Annabeth let the lid slam down, her breath coming in short, quick pants. She sat on the steps leading up to the altar to calm herself.

"I knew he was involved in drugs," Annabeth muttered, partially to Percy and partially to herself. "Who doesn't? I've been to his parties before, and drugs basically fuel those things. But this... I never knew he did this. He's running an international scale drug business! And yet we still know nothing, really."

Percy stayed quiet, but put her arm around Annabeth.

"Anyway. What was it that you said you found?"

Percy held out the photograph, and it was as if she was seeing it for the first time.

It looked like it was taken at night time – it was dark, with the flash from a camera reflecting in one of the many empty beer bottles that stood scattered in the captured scene. Next to headstones and flowers, various needles lay on the ground, some empty, some full and some clearly in use. But the main part of the photograph was a girl. She was lying on the floor amongst the needles and broken bottles, one eye half-open and one eye closed, clearly unconscious and in a stupor. Her mouth, which was slightly open, had a lock of hair caught in it and drool dried on her cheeks. Her skin was pale, unlike her hair, which was choppy and black and obscuring parts of her face. One arm rested on her chest. She was dressed as if she were at an underground party, an unknown punk band t-shirt and ripped jeans on her sprawled limbs, but the photograph was clearly taken outdoors.

Annabeth sucked in a sharp breath. " _Thalia_ ," She whispered, and leapt to her feet.

"Percy, it's Thalia! It's her!" She shouted, no longer caring whether she was quiet or not.

"She must be alive, she must be. She's posed for these pictures, she knew we would find them!"

Percy felt like a lead weight was in her stomach. "Annabeth..." She tried. "Thalia's been missing for seven months. She..."

Annabeth either ignored her, or just didn't hear. She was studying the photograph so intensely it was as if she were trying to transport herself to whenever it was taken. After a few minutes, she looked up.

"Headstones, of course!" She said. "This was taken in the graveyard. I...I know that exact spot! I've been there!"

She grabbed Percy's hand, and although she shouldn't have, all she could think was how soft her skin was.

"Come on, we have to go find her!"

Heart heavy, Percy let Annabeth drag her out of the church into the surrounding graveyard.

"Here!" Annabeth said suddenly, dropping Percy's hand like it was poison. She knelt down.

"There's nothing here." Percy said, perhaps a little stupidly.

"Dig, moron." She told her, scraping at the earth frantically. Percy dropped down and did the same thing, scrabbling away at the dirt and stone. Her chest felt tight as they dug deeper, squinting in the darkness, their only source of light the dying glow of Annabeth's phone.

Percy's fingers scraped against something soft, and she immediately recoiled. Unfortunately, before she could warn Annabeth, she'd pulled away the rest of the mud only to be met by a pungent smell.

"Oh, god." Annabeth murmured, turning away and retching. Percy tried not to vomit, and crawled backwards in horror, anticipating what was coming next.

Once she'd stopped retching, Annabeth held her breath and moved forwards again, seemingly not knowing what she was going to find. Percy's heart thumped in her chest, knowing exactly what the smell was but at a loss for words on how to break it to Annabeth. She'd grown desperate, retching and vomiting, curls falling into her face and tears streaming from her eyes as she practically battled with the dirt, tossing it behind her in huge handfuls as she dug up further and further. When it was finally revealed, Annabeth threw herself over the whole she'd dug, crying and throwing up and trembling in a despicable mixture of grief, horror and anger.

Thalia Grace's dead body, decaying and maggot-infested, lay in the hole they'd just unearthed. Her mouth was slightly open, one of her eyes mid-blink and a variety of needles and beer bottles lay encased in dirt as she had been only moments ago. The smell of rotting flesh became all too strong and set Percy off too, so she grabbed Annabeth and forcibly pulled her away from the corpse, carrying her out of the graveyard. She kicked and shrieked hysterically, shouting Thalia's name and screaming profanities at Luke.

Once she'd wrestled Annabeth into the truck, still crying and smelling of sick, she started the engine and shot away instantly, not caring about seatbelts so long as Annabeth was okay. She sped along the roads, skidding and squealing the tires until she pulled up outside her house.

Snapping back into reality, Annabeth fell into a scary silence. In an almost zombielike trance, she allowed Percy to lead her into the house, tiptoeing into the bathroom and cleaning herself up before joining her in the bedroom.

"Percy..." She began, "I...I'm so sorry."

She leant against Percy, this time smelling of lemon soap and sadness. Percy breathed in her scent, still terrified but feeling much safer now Annabeth was in her arms.

"Don't be sorry, Annabeth. I never even knew her. You and her must've been close."

She felt a tear land on her jersey and pulled Annabeth closer to her. To her surprise, instead of resisting, Annabeth curled her body around Percy's. Percy could feel her heartbeat next to her own.

"We were." She said quietly. "I loved her with all my heart."

She stopped. "No. I brought you into this, it's my fault that we found all this. It's my fault that we..." She swallowed. "We found her. You shouldn't have had to see that."

Percy lazily twirled one of Annabeth's curls around her finger. "It's okay, really. Maybe...maybe we were supposed to find her. You took pictures, right? Now we can finally give her justice. Finally get closure."

She buried her face in Percy's sports jersey. "I'm going to kill Luke Castellan."

"I don't blame you."

Slowly, slowly, Annabeth's fast breathing slowed and she was asleep, finally at peace. Percy smiled at the sight of her, and soon she was asleep too.

When morning came, the sun thrusting bars of golden light in through the gaps in the blinds, something felt different. Annabeth slept soundly in her arms, Luke was about to be apprehended, Thalia would finally be brought to justice and maybe life at the academy would be brought back to normal.

But even if it wasn't, at least she had Annabeth.


End file.
